


Don't Hate Me

by arwrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 20:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30144804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arwrite/pseuds/arwrite
Summary: Draco has kept his distance from Hermione to protect her. Maybe the only way to protect each other is to become closer than ever.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 23





	Don't Hate Me

**Author's Note:**

> The art is not mine, the art belongs to hoffnungclaws, follow on Instagram!  
> This fic was inspired by the tenderness and emotion that hoffnungclaws portrayed in this piece.  
> Thank you for trusting me to bring this to life, it was a joy!

Hermione stalked down the deserted corridor. Her brown curls bouncing behind her in a messy ponytail as she flicked her wand to light the way. 

Draco sat in an empty alcove where they had done homework countless times before. 

“Are you talking to me now?” She crossed her arms. 

He itched his left arm. His face turning up into a grimace. 

He held out his hand for her. “I can’t have you mad at me too. Please, there’s a reason, I promise.”

His facade broke a little as he gave a tentative smile toward her. She couldn’t stay mad at him.

_ Curse his good looks.  _

She grasped his hand, and he pulled her closer so she could smell the cinnamon gum on his breath.

“Explain.” She said, but her lip upturned.

“I just need to hold you for a minute, closer?” Draco whispered, glancing into her dewy, brown eyes. 

“Alright.” It wasn’t like she hadn’t missed this. 

One of his hands slid around her waist, the other twisted in her hair and pulled it free of the elastic. The curls sprang in all directions. He scrutinized her, making sure she was alright. He breathed her in. 

She smelled of parchment, ink, coffee, and licorice quills. He smelled of something rancid, like something dying. His usual scent of grass, parchment and cologne were gone. She leaned back and entangled her hands in his hair. He closed his eyes, his breath slowing. 

“Mhhmm.” He reacted, pulling her back in, his strong arms nearly crushing her.

“Don’t hate me.” 

_ When had someone last hugged him? _

“I have really wanted to. You shut me out at the beginning of the year. It hurt.” Hermione said, being honest was one of the staples of their friendship. “Ron and Harry think you’re a git...that you have always been a git...prove them wrong...please.”

He chuckled a bit. “It was so much easier before this year, to balance everything.” His breath sped up again. 

She shifted, so she was closer to him, her knees resting on the uneven stones of the alcove, so she gazed into his gray eyes, one hand on either side of his face. “Start at the beginning when you are ready.” 

“It’s going to be after curfew soon, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Draco sniffed.

“No one comes down here, remember. First year when you were afraid of what people might think, we met here and no one could find us.” She nodded.

He shrugged. “You make me happy.” He said into her hair. 

She laughed, redness rising to her cheeks. “You make me happy too. That’s why I want you to explain, it’s been a lonely year without you.”

“I can’t begin to express how sorry I am.” His face was gaunt in the light of their wands. He had lost weight. A shell of the studious, charming, cunning, Draco Malfoy that she had first met sat in front of her.

“When did you last sleep?” She asked.

“I slept for a couple hours last night.” He laughed. “You are always concerned about me and that’s why I wanted to keep my distance.” His mind was somewhere else. 

“I’m here for you, you know that. You can’t shut yourself off to people.” Hermione told him sternly.

“I know that! I just want to keep you safe.” His voice rose with every word. “Don’t hate me because I hate myself.” He lay his head on her shoulder, her hands snared themselves in his hair again.

He pulled back, she held onto him.

He chuckled. “You can’t resist me, can you?”

“No.” She pouted.

“I need to show you something.” Draco undid the buttons of his left sleeve. 

Hermione gasped as he rolled up his sleeve, revealing the skull intertwined with a snake, a swollen quality about it.

“I thought…” She dropped her arms, stood up, and started to pace in front of him. She glared at him.

“I didn’t want to, but my parents expected me to and you can’t say no to the Dark Lord, especially when he is torturing your parents in front of you. He asked me to do it. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t do anything but think about how much I hated the Dark Lord.” He closed his eyes. “And how much I wanted to protect you.”

“You don’t have to protect me, I can take care of myself.” She stared into his hollow eyes.

_ Why did she fall in love with the boy that had so many expectations on him from his birth? _

_ Everything that she detested sat before her.  _

_ She wanted to be upset and leave, but she couldn’t. _

_ The brokenness about him, the hollowness, the absolute way that she just wanted to give into him physically.  _

She missed his hands roaming her body. She missed the way he gazed at her like he really knew her, not the insufferable-know-it-all disguise that she wore to protect herself from getting hurt. 

“I know, I am not trying to be the savior, but I just want you to be safe. That’s all I have ever wanted, Hermione, you are the one thing in this life that makes me happy.” Draco sent shivers down Hermione’s back when he talked this way. 

He had missed her, the way that she could make him relax with a slight touch. The way he laughed so easily around her. The way she knew him, even though he put up a rough exterior to protect himself. 

“No pressure or anything.” Hermione rolled her eyes. They let out a forced laugh.

They were silent for several minutes.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked. 

“I know you like a task to do.” Draco grinned. His muscles seemed strained, as though he hadn’t smiled like that in a while. He probably hadn’t. “Don’t hate me.”

“I don’t. Why would you think that?” She asked, returning to her place on his lap. 

He sighed and scooted back with her. 

Hermione convinced herself that the alcove magically elongated for the users' needs. The alcove was unevenly mortared with stones except for the ceiling that opened into the endless, clear sky. In first year, they would set out their books and study until the moonlight was above them. Draco nudged Hermione and laid down in their little paradise and gazed at the moon. It was the perfect temperature year-round, even though there was no ceiling. 

“Everyone hates me. The Dark Lord has given me a task.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his middle and snuggling up. The moon shone. He rested his head on hers.

“What is it?” She asked.

“He wants me to kill Dumbledore.” He stated. The silence stifled the thoughts trying to protrude into Hermione’s mind.

She shifted, he held her tighter against him. “Please don’t go.” He whined like a kicked dog.

Her heart fell. “I’m not.” She wanted to gaze upon his face. See the emotions, expressions of what he was feeling. He might have had a great poker face with everyone else, but Hermione could read him like a...well...like a book.

She leaned against the wall and held his hand, stroking his knuckles with her thumb. He readjusted himself so his head was in her lap.

Everything tumbled out of him then.

“The Dark Lord was upset that my father got captured. He is still in Azkaban. He is coming home this weekend.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The Dark Lord took up residency as the patriarch of the family until my father returns.” He shivered and gripped Hermione’s hand. “When I messed up or did something poorly, he will have me watch my mother tortured or have me torture her. Auntie Bella laughs and urges him on.” His hand trembled under hers. It was her turn to squeeze tighter. 

“I’m here.” She whispered. She absentmindedly stroked his hair with her other hand. 

His breath syncopated with dry sobs.

“It is worse when my mom has to watch me get tortured.” His body stiffened and shook. “She has to be restrained. All I can hear are her screams and his laughter.” He spat. “My growing up was not the best, as you well know with all the expectations set on me, but they are still my parents. They still housed me, clothed me, taught me and did what they thought was best.”

She nodded, her eyes wet with tears.

“I want to run away every day, but then I feel guilty about feeling that way. Lord Voldemort will surely kill my parents. Sometimes I want to anyway.” 

Draco sat up and pressed his back against the uneven wall next to Hermione.

“What are you going to do about the whole killing Dumbledore thing?” She asked after a minute, their wand lights reflecting off the stones casting them in different hues of red, brown and green.

“I have to do it. Professor Snape is teaching me how to be ruthless.” Draco laid his head down on his knees. 

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. “Which isn’t going well because you are the furthest thing from it?” The corner of her mouth twitched.

“Very funny.” Draco pulled a face and laid his head on her shoulder.

“I just don’t want to use the killing curse. Snape has me trying it out on those dummies that we use in Charms, but all I can get out of my wand is a spark of green light. I tried to curse him with a necklace, but that didn’t work.”

Hermione’s mind raced as she put two and two together.

“Don’t look at me that way.” He shook his head, straightened and ran a hand through his hair.

“Like what?” Hermione asked.

“Am I all the things that a Death Eater represents?” Draco asked in return.

“No, Draco, you are not.” Hermione said firmly. She stared into his gray, misty eyes and wiped away the memory of a tear. He leaned into her hand.

Silence fell, the only sound the breath between them. 

He touched her hair preoccupied and winced.

“You like my hair, don’t you?” Hermione snickered.

“It was the first thing that drew me to you. That’s why your hair is so big, it is full of secrets.” He laughed, this time, it reached his eyes, crinkling them. 

He quoted one of their favorite Muggle movies, “Mean Girls,” that they watched every Saturday night over summer break with popcorn and Swedish Fish. They knew all the words at this point.

His breathing returned to normal as they inclined their necks to observe the starry night.

Her heart sped up. She lifted his hand to her lips. Her lips grazed his wrist. Draco’s pulse quickened as Hermione’s questioning lips raised to his pulse point.

She pressed her lips to the Dark Mark. He closed his eyes and entangled his hands in her hair again. 

Hermione continued to kiss upward, and he caught her head in his hands. 

Their lips crashed together. They were happy, if only just for a little while. 


End file.
